Discussion Forum 2.5 (task: write a blog post)

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Had you asked me what ‘information’ meant, as a concept or a word, I would probably have said, “Um, facts and figures?” I doubt I’m alone in having no idea just how complex and multifaceted it is. It has been defined as “knowledge”, facts” or “data” (Merriam-Webster) but it is also how we communicate knowledge, and receive it.

And then there are the different types of information: from information serving as an accusation to data that has no meaning until interpreted or supplied with context.

The semantic understanding of ‘information’ is the most useful and relevant: that it is meaningful, a message, and requires context in order to be meaningful. According to the ‘data-knowledge continuum’, information is a step beyond raw data because it has meaning and purpose; it leads to knowledge and, hopefully, wisdom. Knowledge itself comes in different forms, from the individual to the collective, and on a great many different topics.

Amongst so much information, humans rely on a shared understanding of semiotics – the signs and symbols we use to communicate meaning and understand each other – in order to organise data into information, leading to knowledge and, hopefully, wisdom. Otherwise there is nothing but chaos.

In the current ‘Information Age’, when a great wealth of information on every topic conceivable is widely accessible, we seem to be walking a fine line between coherent semiotics and pure chaos. The weight of information available on the World Wide Web (WWW) is overwhelming. It’s not surprising how much we depend on search engines like Google or Bing to help us manage it all.

The ‘information landscape’ has the weight of a dam full of water, and a search engine is the concrete wall, letting a small trickle out at any one time. Contemplating just how much information is out there is like trying to comprehend the fact that the universe doesn’t end: it’s crushing, and your mind just stutters to a stop.

Teacher librarians are real-life, human search engines: organising, selecting and communicating information that would otherwise be inaccessible or overwhelming to students. I don’t mean that they replace search engines, but they function as another conduit – even for the search engines themselves. Without an understanding of the broader information landscape in all its complexities, both online and in hard copy, teacher librarians would be unable to help students. I’ll confess, this intimidates me: it seems, three weeks into this Masters degree, to be an unbelievably difficult task. So much knowledge and, yes, wisdom in a teacher librarian’s head!

The introduction of the WWW has dramatically changed the information landscape, from one that was primarily print-based and expert-driven (with knowledge being held and controlled by those who have been granted access, usually along class, wealth and gender lines) to one that is everywhere, anywhere and also nowhere. The WWW has democratised information – or rather, access to it – but this comes with its own problems.

I belong to that generation (the very start of Gen Y) which grew up without computers (and there was certainly no public internet!). There were no computers throughout my primary school years – they existed, but they were rare in my corner of the world. In grade 7, we had a class called ‘word processing’ where, using computers that even then looked hideously ancient, with their squat, toad-like shape and green text on a black screen, we were taught to touch-type and some basic coding. In grade 8 I had a class called ‘keyboarding’ where I was taught how to use Word and format documents, and improve my typing skills. All year long we laboriously typed out letters copied from spiral-bound books. Tedious but effective. In grade 9 I took a class called ‘information technology’ where we learned about the history of computing and corresponding technologies – I’m not sure I fully understood it but I enjoyed the class. When my older sister attended this same high school about 6 years earlier, there were two rooms full of typewriters for the (mostly female) students to learn basic typing skills on. No computers. By the time I was in grade 7, the school had a room of black-and-white monitors and 4 – yes, four! – colour computers. Playing Solitaire was as fun as it got.

So I grew up alongside the technology, watching it evolve and improve. When I was at university studying my undergrad in English and History, the internet was a barely functioning, mostly useless thing that we still didn’t really understand. Not only were Google’s search algorithms a pain to figure out, there wasn’t very much on the WWW to search through. Not to mention that the modem connection continues to be the butt of many jokes. Meanwhile there were news articles talking about how we were all going to let our fridges order our groceries for us, and shopping would all be ‘online’. I laughed. This iteration of the ‘information landscape’ could barely walk. Meanwhile, I was holed up in the university library, hunting down old journal articles in library binding and photocopying them so I could find what I needed. It was not just that the information in books was perceived as reliable, it was that it was there: tangible, with a physical presence and therefore trustworthy.

The current information landscape – or the ‘infosphere’ as Luciano Floridi (2007) calls it – is an ever-changing, fascinating yet potentially treacherous beast in comparison. ‘Infosphere’ isn’t exactly synonymous with ‘cyberspace’ but a term Floridi coined to capture “the whole information environment” and all its “entities” (59) as “the very distinction between online and offline […] become[s] blurred and then disappear[s].” (61) According to Floridi, it is changing the very nature of being, of what it means to be human. The separation of ‘offline’ and ‘online’ is blurring, disappearing even, so that our ‘ordinary environment’ is being ‘reontologized’ [sic] – it is “becoming our ecosystem” and “progressively absorbing any other space”. (Floridi, 2007, p.61)

The problem with this is an observable one: we are unprepared for all that these changes mean for us. We have been caught off-guard. While there are positive ramifications to being able to access information whenever and wherever we like, such as convenience and the simplification of daily tasks such as paying bills or booking hotels; and enabling those from less privileged backgrounds have access to the same information as the privileged, there are also negatives that our societies are struggling to comprehend, let alone deal with. We don’t read deeply anymore, or even finish what we start (Manjoo, 2013 and Baron, 2016). Because of this, ‘information’ is losing meaning, and can become ‘misinformation’. There’s an ongoing abuse of this ready access, with bullying, threatening behaviour, misogyny and racism proliferating behind the protective safety of anonymity – an anonymity that also protects freedom of speech for marginalised peoples. It’s all happening so fast, while humans, by nature, evolve slowly and need time to adjust to change.

The role of the teacher librarian (TL) in this information landscape has become a vitally important one, more so than ever before. People aren’t going to stop using social media, the WWW isn’t going to go away. Nor would I want that. But humans – of all ages – need a whole new set of skills not just in how to use a computer and type up a document, but also in how to navigate the infosphere; protect themselves; and evaluate and organise information. I see this need first-hand in my own father, who lacks this kind of education and so has no ability to judge the veracity of online articles, or that he should be wary of getting his knowledge from Facebook memes.

Without a doubt, the evolving information landscape makes the TL role a challenging one, but not an impossible one. Keeping abreast of changes to copyright laws and referencing styles; constantly updating your knowledge and understanding of online sources and databases; finding ways to help students learn how to navigate the complex infosphere; and respecting others’ right to information and respectful expression – these things are all interconnected and woven through the very fabric of a school library. The scope feels intimidating but can be broken down into smaller, more manageable parts. I am learning so much about what it means to be a teacher librarian; I had no idea how complex a role it is, but it’s also a fascinating challenge. Without an understanding of the ever-changing nature of the information landscape, TLs would not only struggle to help students navigate it but also struggle to adapt, themselves.

References

Baron, Naomi S (2016). Do students lose depth in digital reading? The Conversation.

Floridi, Luciano (2007). A look into the future impact of ICT on our lives. The Information Society, 23(1), 59-64.

Manjoo, Farhad (2013). You won’t finish this article. Slate.